From Angel to A-Dawg
This is a fanfiction coauthored by Slimshady2015 and ShadowBobcat10. Angel lives the life of a regular six year old mutant bird kid till she hears a song by EMINEM. At that point she decides to become a rapper. The only problem is that she has to deal with the fact that she is a HUGE minority and she has to be extremely good to even get noticed. Part One: Finding Fame One= Chapter One Just another day. Just another boring day in a long list of boring days in my E-shaped house. The Flock house. Max was out raiding something, she was too far for me to tell, but I needed to remember to pick strawberries tomorrow. I loved strawberry flapjacks. I sat down on the couch, since nobody else was there, and I saw a movie sitting on the table. I'd already watched all the movies we had millions of times, but this one I'd never seen before. 8 Mile it read on the cover, with Eminem listed as an actor. I put it on. If Max knew I was watching this stuff, she would go berserk. But she didn't know, so I didn't really worry. Eminem was not that bad of an actor, and he was a really good rapper. Maybe I could try to be like that... I thought. Immediately, I got a pencil and a piece of paper and got to work in my room on a rap. It would be about how I felt, living as an escaped lab experiment. Maybe, "Birds of a Feather" would be a good title. Want to read my first rap? You find them all here. Now where was I? I'm going to be rich, I thought. I was really going to do. If I sell these, Max will be proud, and we can live safe and sound. I thought about it, wrote a few more songs, and decide to name the album "Mile High Rhapsody," sort of like a link to me being a bird kid and all. I go into Max's wallet and take 50 bucks, enough for me to buy a mike and start recording. Took me a few days, but soon I had a five song album. I mailed the album and a letter to Marshal Mathers, hoping he would accept my album. This meant the world to me. I really hoped I can pay Max back. And I hoped becoming a rapper will be what does that, not stealing from another bank account. |-|Two= Chapter Two Just another day at the office. But today, there was something different. Marshal looks at the stack of letters his secretary brought him, and he looked through it. "Junk, fan mail, junk, black mail," he muttered to himself, looking for something interesting. "Junk, junk, fan mail, junk, junk- wait, what's this?" he exclaimed, coming across an envelope with the words, "Please give me a chance" neatly handwritten across the top. He opened it. There was a CD-R inside and a handwritten letter, which read, Dear Eminem, I wanted to let you know that you have really inspired me. I know you are a busy man but it would mean the world to me if you gave this a listen. I know about how you struggled to earn respect and get to the top so if you get a chance, I would be so thrilled if you would meet me and we could talk together. If you decide to see me just meet me at a Burger King right outside Denver. Signed, your number one fan, Angel P.S. Fly On. Marshal put the CD on, and he listened. The first song seemed to be about sadness and loss, and the second one seemed like a revenge song. The demo CD ended on a song about joy and discovery. There's lots of potential here, even though she's a girl, Marshal thought. Picking up the phone, Marshal called his secretary and arranged a flight to Denver. By that afternoon, Marshal was on his private jet heading to Denver. |-|Three= Chapter Three I had no idea how to react. But above all, I wanted Eminem to approve of me, not using mind control. At least I hoped that was possible. I still had three dollars left, so when I got to Burger King, I bought a $1 Whopper Jr. Then Marshal Mathers himself walked in. I never thought he would take me seriously, but I guess he did. "Hello, Angel," Marshal said. I take a deep breath. "Hi. I'm really glad you showed up. I just want to put myself out there, you know? I just want to show the world who I am through music." "I'm very impressed by your demo disc, Angel," he smiled. "I'm willing to work with you to expand your potential, if you are willing to work hard." Then I realized that it is Eminem, not some phony person trying to fuck me over. "I'm willing to work really hard to make my dream a reality," I said. He nodded. "That's good. Now, to create interest to your talent, we need to make a music video," he said. I knew exactly where this was going. "I'm willing to do one for 'Birds of a Feather,'" I said. Very bright kid, Marshal thought. "Fly to Detroit, and we'll get that done," he said out loud. "Thank you, sir," I say. He got up and left, but I knew that I had a chance. "YES!" I screamed in joy. |-|Four= Chapter Four "Where the hell is ANGEL?" Max screamed at Gazzy. Like usual, he knew nothing. Where is she? Max thought feverishly. The only clue was the 50 dollars missing from her wallet, the new mic in Angel's room, the stack of blank CD-R's on her desk, and the 8 Mile movie in Angel's computer. "I'm losing my MIND!" Max screamed, this time at no one in particular. Iggy didn't seem fazed. "She always comes back to us," he said. "Always." But Max wasn't that sure. "We're going to look for her," Max decided. She really needed to do something for Angel. "Max, this is crazy," Nudge admitted. That didn't stop Max. "I am crazy," she smiled. |-|Five= Chapter Five Holly SHIT! I thought. Not only has my music video surpassed the 50 thousand view mark, Eminem and Dr. Dre are thinking of a CONCERT! Yeah, this sounded absolutely crazy. I was actually in the studio with Eminem and Dr. Dre, discussing the possibility of a concert. There was nothing better in this fucking world than this. Crazy, I sang in my head. That's one of my other songs. That's what they call me, Little crazy bitch, When they taste my might, That's what my enemies call me, '' "So Angel, we have to do something with your name," Eminem said. "We uploaded your music video under my official channel, but Angel is too soft." He looked seriously at me. "Unless soft white girl music is what you're gonna write." That almost sounded like a threat. And it's meaning was a real threat. There weren't that many white rappers, and there weren't any six-year-old little white girl rappers at all. I was in a HUGE minority, and Eminem was right. Angel as my artist name was not what I needed. "What about A-Dawg?" Dr. Dre suggested. It sounded like a nice name that might actually work. "I like it," I said. I was ready for anything. "We'll arrange the concert hall ready, and you'll perform in a month," Eminem said. "Thank you," I said. I was dismissed and I went back into my hotel room. I was almost asleep when I realized I forgot to tell Max about this. I knew she would be pissed. "Hi Max," I squeaked. I expected her to scream. She did. "Where are you, Angel?" Max yelled. "You've got to stop disappearing like this!" "Well," I tried to say casually. "I'm going to be in a concert in about a month." "You have to come back!" Max yelled. "I can't keep worrying about you like this." "Well, this is really important to me. I'll even pay you back. I'm expecting 1.4 million tomorrow." I heard Max stutter on the phone. I didn't really mean to say it like that, but it just came out. "1.4 million fans?" Max finally said. "No. US dollars." "I guess you know what you're doing," Max decided. "Stay safe." "Thank you so much! I love you!" I said, hanging up. Now that Max was okay with it, I way on my way to fame. Part Two: The Truth of Fame Six= Chapter Six You could say Max was at least a little bit mad at Angel for leaving and not telling anyone where she was until she showed up on television. But Max always had a soft spot on Angel. "Really?" Nudge asked, her brown eyes elated with joy. "We're going to see Angel rap in concert, for free?" "Yes," Max answered. "Ange arranged everything, plane ticket, hotel, the whole lot." "We're going to be in a plane?" Gazzy gasped. "I've never flown without wings before. Sweet!" Max was more nervous than excited. Because of Angel's sudden interest in rap, the whole lie low plan went to crap, so she had no idea how this was going to come out. "The plane's ride is at 4:30, so we should get going now," Iggy announced. "Dude, there's still another three hours before that," Fang pointed out. "Didn't you know, you have to arrive at the airport way before?" Iggy said. "Whatever," Fang said. "Lets go." ''Well, maybe I am excited to fly in a plane for the first time, Max thought as they walked to the nearest airport. |-|Seven= Chapter Seven I couldn't fucking wait for the concert. I felt like I could rule the world, especially since people were willing to PAY to see me perform. I wrote a few new songs just for my audience. I guess I was nervous. Eminem was watching, and so was Max and the Flock. I still loved them to death. I walked to the concert, since Slim Shady didn't let me get a car. He said when you start out, you need to feel the dangers. I had no idea what that meant. I heard some shouting in an alley, so I checked it out. It was three men smoking something or another. "Look, it's a little girl," the man named Cole snarled. "I think she's lost." "Dude, look at her hands," another man, Mark, chuckled. "She's been in fights." "You idiots," the third guy, Tom, said. "She's Eminem's new bitch, A-Dawg. Let's teach her who's boss." "Fuck you," I said in a low voice. Somehow, they made me really mad. I made Tom vomit whatever he was eating. "Hold it there, pussy," Cole pulled out a gun. Though I could kill a full grown man with one finger, I was no match against a gun. I ran. "I said hold it, bitch!" He started running after me, firing his pistol, shot after shot almost getting me. I knew if I flew, I would out run him easily, but then my wings would be venerable to the bullets. I kept running. "AHHHH!" I yelled as a bullet grazed my shoulder. I ran into a record store, looking for the bathroom so I could asses the damage. Cole didn't follow me. My shoulder wasn't hit that bad, so I ripped up my jacket and wrapped it over the scrape. I would still be able to sing. But now I knew this was a real dangerous job. I could be attacked by humans, too. |-|Eight= Chapter Eight Later at the concert I was nervous, but Max was there. "I know you don't need it but good luck A-Dawg" said Slim winking. I looked back at him and smiled, but I am going to be honest, I was fucking terrified. The first song I was supposed to perform was the first, Birds of a Feather, and though I practiced numerous times, I was sweating like hell. I also had no fucking idea who was in the audience, and after the shooting, I was a bit paranoid. You would probably be bored since you couldn't hear any of it, but I sang all five songs from my first album and then sang Don't Give Up, the song I wrote on the way here. After the concert, the real trouble started. "Max, I'm going to join a gang. I really mean it," I told her once we got back to the hotel. "I was shot on my way to the concert, and I think I need to be part of something bigger for safety." "No," was Max's solid reply. I really loved her, but she was a real pain in the ass sometimes. Go with the flow, Max, I said in her head. I could be her voice. "Ah! Fine Angel, but if you join this gang, you have to stay safe!" Max shouted. "Something going on?" Iggy asked, poking his head through the door. "Nothing," I lied. "Thanks Max, you won't regret this." "I better not," Max muttered. |-|Nine= Chapter Nine After the concert the Flock and I went out to eat at this fancy restaurant. "I'll have the chicken Fettuccini Alfredo" I said. We all ate and had a wonderful time. "So Angel, how's gang life?" Max said. "Ix-nay on the ang-gay" I said. "Wait, you haven't said anything to anyone else have you?" Max said. "What is she talking about?" said Marshal from behind her. "Uh, funny story actually." Angel said, then laughed nervously. "You have a lot of explaining to do" Slim said. I looked at him and said, "Let's not let something like this ruin the fun." Slim just shook his head "I lost a good friend of mine because he was involved with a gang. Have you ever heard of 2-Pac?" "Well..." I responded, trying to come up with an excuse. "I got shot even without joining a gang. I figured I would get better protection." "That's not the way to do it," Slim said. "If you want protection, get body guards." Actually, that wasn't a bad idea. With the money I was making, I could defiantly afford body guards. "How do you quit?" I asked. "That's up to you," was Slim's only response. TO BE CONTINUED Category:Alternate Universe Category:Slimshady2015's Fanfics Category:Fanfictions